


Who We Are is Not Where We've Been

by LJF



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: AU extreme, Adopted Children, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Chloé Bourgeois Are Siblings, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir & Chloé Bourgeois Friendship, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir Needs a Hug, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Assume nothing, Based on a Dream, Basically Nothing is What You Expect, Best Friend Swap, Big Sister Chloé Bourgeois, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Lovers, Even I'm Not Entirely Sure Where I'm Going With This One, F/M, Gabriel Agreste Is Not Hawk Moth, Good Chloé Bourgeois, Hurt Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir, Little Brother Adrien Agreste, Miraculous Guardian is Not Who You Think, Miraculous Team, Not Canon Compliant, Private School, Protective Chloé Bourgeois, Reverse Crush (Miraculous Ladybug), Some Last Names Are Different, even I don't know, probably
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-06-09
Packaged: 2021-03-02 21:48:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,586
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24053923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LJF/pseuds/LJF
Summary: At one of the most exclusive private schools in Paris, things are not what they seem. Golden-boy model AdrienAgrestehas an open wound in his heart and serious questions about his past. Snobbish Chloé Agreste will not tolerate anyone who hurts her brother. Music prodigy Nino Rolling can't seem to stay awake but somehow maintains perfect grades. Whiz kid Alya Césaire is constantly missing class. And scholarship student Marinette Dupain-Cheng has absolutely zero patience for any of the spoiled rich-kids she assumes her new schoolmates are.But when the city comes under attack by powerful forces, all five of them are recruited by a mysterious underground organization to join an elite team of magic users and defend their city. And of course, none of them know their teammates' true identities. (Because something has to stay the same, right?)
Relationships: Adrien Agreste & Chloé Bourgeois, Adrien Agreste | Chat Noir/Marinette Dupain-Cheng | Ladybug, Alya Césaire & Adrien Agreste, Alya Césaire/Nino Lahiffe, Chloé Bourgeois & Alya Césaire, Chloé Bourgeois & Sabrina Raincomprix, Marinette Dupain-Cheng & Nino Lahiffe
Comments: 17
Kudos: 57





	1. Just Wait and See

**Author's Note:**

> Okay this is all inspired by a bizarre dream I had, so it's a little weird.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's the last day of summer, and five students in Paris take advantage of their time in different ways.

The last day of summer was, by all observations, a normal day in Paris. Not for everyone, of course. Somewhere in the city, a company chairman was sitting a board meeting, his curt interrogation bringing the presenter to tears. Elsewhere, a wealthy socialite was yelling at the maid emptying out a now unoccupied bedroom. Meanwhile, five people scattered across the city received a message from a mutual friend none of them had heard from in years.

And for the many students in the city, this day meant that tomorrow, their summer routines would have to give way to a busy schedule of schoolwork. Some were taking the time to sleep in, like the dark haired boy who'd fallen asleep at a desk, his headphones having tumbled off of his ears. Others, such as the bespectacled girl sitting in the library, were busy studying. Then, there were the ones preparing for their first day, including the blond girl sighing in a spa chair as the nails on her fingers and toes were slowly painted. There were also, of course, students like the sad eyed blond boy, occupied with moving their belonging into the dorm rooms that would be their homes for the next year. And some were just enjoying the last day of summer, spending time outside in the sunshine and fresh air, like the dark haired girl sitting in the park, drawing in her sketchbook.

Tomorrow, all five of these students would be starting a new semester at Lycée Françoise Dupont, one of the most exclusive private schools in the city.

For one of them, this meant the first time she wasn't attending an ordinary public school.

For two of them, this meant a chance to spend time together at school, which they hadn't been able to do in years.

For three of them, this meant another year of being in same class as each other for-- was this really the _tenth_ year in a row?

For four of them, this meant their first year of secondary education-- a time to really starting thinking towards the future.

And for all five of them, this would be the year that their lives irrevocably changed. But on such a sunny day, full of promise and hope, how could any of them guess that they would soon be exposed to some of the darkest secrets this city had to offer?


	2. We'll Have New Septembers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As the school year begins, Adrien deals with his new reality, Chloé shows her true colors, Nino struggles to hide the truth, Alya's carefully laid plans go awry, and Marinette steps on some toes-- both literally and figuratively.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let the games begin!

Marinette Dupain-Cheng walked through the halls of her new school, ignoring the whispers. So what if her uniform was second hand? If her shoes were simple flats instead of brand-name heels? If-

 _Deep breaths, Marinette. Don't let them get to you. You_ earned _this._

Suddenly, she tripped and fell, spilling her things everywhere. She heard all the giggles, and glared up at whoever had tripped her.

It was a blond boy who looked vaguely familiar, but the hand he held to his face prevented her from getting a closer look. So at least _he_ was trying to hold back his laughter.

"Excuse _me_ ," she hissed, "Do you _mind_?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, let me help--"

"Save it," she spat. "I don't have time to deal with this." She quickly grabbed her supplies and ran off in the direction of her classroom, ducking into an empty seat just as the first bell rang.

_What a great way to start my first day._

* * *

Adrien walked into his classroom, a little bit confused. Who had that girl been, and why was she so angry at him? Sure, he'd tripped her, but it had been an _accident_. He hadn't even noticed her until he heard her books clattering to the ground, and he'd felt absolutely _awful_ about it. He'd even tried to help her, but she'd refused, running away as quickly as her legs could carry her.

"Over here, Adrien!" His best friend called, patting the empty seat next to her.

"Thanks, Alya," he said as he slid in next to her. "I got a little held up."

"What happened?" She sounded worried. "You live in the dorms, it's not like you got stuck in traffic."

"Foot traffic," Adrien said, shrugging. "I ran into this girl.....or she ran into me, I'm not sure....."

"Oh? A _girl_ , huh?" Alya gave him a look. "What's her name?"

"I don't know, but I saw her come into this classroom. She's over there, sitting next to....." Adrien's voice trailed off, not wanting to risk Alya's wrath.

"Oh, _him_."

* * *

Alya's glare was directed a few rows ahead, at the one person she could _not_ stand, as well as the girl sitting next to him.

"Well, I don't recogize her, either," she said, "But I can't say much for her taste, considering that she chose to sit with _Rolling_."

 _Nino Rolling._ She couldn't stand that guy. _Stuck-up, show off, smart-mouthed little--_

"--So then I decided to move to TIbet and become a monk. Great idea, right?"

"Hmm? Yeah, sure, great plan," Alya said distractedly.

"Alya Césaire, are you listening to me?" She turned back to look at her exasperated best friend.

"Of course I am, Adrien." She smiled, but he clearly didn't buy it.

"No, you weren't," he sighed. "Because the minute you saw him, your mind went into that whole spiral-of-hatred thing you do whenever you think about him."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Alya denied.

"Uh-huh," Adrien said, an expression of disbelief on his face. "And you also _don't_ have a spreadsheet in your bedroom detailing your grand master plan to defeat him once and for all."

"Oh, shut it."

* * *

The hairs on the back of his neck rose. Someone was staring at him, and he knew who. _Don't turn around. Don't give her that satisfaction. Don't look._

"Hey," Nino said instead, turning to the dark-haired girl aitting next to him. "Nice to meet you. I'm Nino Rolling."

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng," she said, pulling a notebook and pencil out of her bag. "But I'm not-- Wait, did you say _Rolling_? As in--"

"Paul Rolling, yeah. He's my dad." Nino smiled, trying to hold back a sigh. Why did people _always_ ask about his dad? Just once, couldn't someone--

"No, not him," the girl-- _Marinette_ \-- said, waving her hand in dismisal. "Sure, I've heard some of his music, but it's not exactly my style."

"Oh?" Then--

"But your mom is Jade Stone, right?"

"Yeah, why?" His _mother_? No one ever asked about her. Most people had barely heard of her, unless it was as Paul Rolling's wife. A few people remembered her brief stint as a member of his back-up band, but that was about it.

"Oh, my goodness, she's only my favorite musical artist of _all time_." Her blue eyes were sparkling. "I'm sorry, this is probably weird for you."

"It's fine," Nino said, this smile geuine. "She's my mom, but I do like her music." He couldn't believe his luck. What were the odds?

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Nino."

"Same, dude," he said, "Unless....you're not friends with Alya Césaire, are you?"

"Who?"

"Good, that girl's a menace," he said, holding out his hand. "Friends?"

"Alright," she said, shrugging before taking his hand and shaking it. "You seem less stuck-up than most of these snobs."

 _Oh_. Nino took in the faded school emblem on her sweater, the chipped paint on her fingernails, and the cheap mechanical pencil in her hand.

"Wait, are you here on a scholarship?" He whispered, not wanting to embarass her by drawing any attention towards them.

"Yes, I am," she said, her voice turning chilly, "And if you have a problem with that, you can--"

"Whoa, who said I had a problem with that?" His eyes turned serious. "I have nothing but the utmost respect. Those scholarships are seriously competitive and hard to get. They're not exactly handing them out on the streets. You obviously worked hard for this."

"Yeah, well you're clearly in the minority around here," she said, "Most people around here seem to think 'scholarship student' is code for 'gutter rat.'"

"Don't listen to them," he said, "You _earned_ this. You have every right to be here."

"Thanks," she said, smiling, "It's nice to know somebody else feels that way."

"Of course," he said, "Actually, I--"

But the second bell cut him off. Class was about to begin.

* * *

Chloé Agreste, ice queen of François Dupont, was eating lunch on the school grounds right before it happened.

"--It's almost ready, we just need to--"

"Zip it, Sabrina." Chloé held up her hand, cutting off her friend's-- _lackey_ might be a better word-- chatter. She stared across the schoolyard to the crowd of first years standing by the doors. looking around wide-eyed as they tried to figure out where to go. "Is that-- _it is_!"

Chloé put down her food, dabbed at her mouth with her napkin, stood up, and _ran_.

She was vaguely aware of people pointing and gaping. Chloé had a reputation for being cold and callous. She never showed any sort of passion for anyone or anything. She rarely raised her voice, she never laughed, she never smiled, and she certainly never _ran_.

But she was certainly running now, sprinting across the quad with a huge smile on her face.

"Adrikins!" Chloé squealed, launching herself at him. "I missed you!"

"Nice to see you too, Chlo," Adrien said, returning her hug. "You _do_ remember that you just saw me _yesterday_ , right?"

"Yes, but _yesterday_ I could see you whenever I wanted," she said, pouting. "Now you're in those _awful_ dorms. Do you know, when I tried to come see you, they wouldn't let me in the building!" She let go of him and crossed her arms.

"They don't let girls in the boys dorm, Chlo," Adrien said. "No exceptions."

"If it makes you feel better, I'm not allowed there either," Alya piped in.

"It doesn't." Chloé sighed and lead the two of them over to where she and Sabrina were sitting. "Thank _goodness_ you two are here. This place has been _dreadfully_ dull without you."

"I'm sure it has," Alya said, but Chloé could tell the younger girl was holding back a smile.

She could still hear the whispers, but she didn't care. As long as Adrien was here, she didn't care what anyone else thought. He was the only one who really mattered.

* * *

"So those two are dating?" Marinette said, nodding her head in the direction of the two blondes walking across the yard, a second girl trailing after them.

"Adrien and Chloé?" Nino said, giving her a confused look. "Not at all-- they're siblings."

"Oh!" Marinette chuckled.

"That girl walking with them is Alya Césaire." Marinette wracked her brain, trying to figure out why the name sounded familiar.

"Is that the girl you described as 'a menace?'" She couldn't see the group that well, but the dark-skinned girl certainly didn't _look_ very intimidating.

"For some reason I've never quite figured out, she hates my guts," Nino explained, "She's constantly picking fights and trying to one-up me."

"She hates _you_?" Marinette looked at her new friend carefully, trying to see him the way other people might. "But you're so.....unoffensive."

"Just what I always wanted to hear," Nino said. "I've always aspired to be 'unoffensive.'"

"I just meant...." Marinette sighed, trying to figure out how to explain herself. "I don't know....You seem to fit in around here. You have the right connections for this kind of place, but you're not stuck-up or show-off-ish. Plus, you don't seem to stand out much. What could make someone hate _you_?"

"Ask Alya," he said, shrugging, "But not right now, because she's about to....ah, there we go." Marinette looked back across the grounds. The two blondes were talking with a red haired girl she didn't recognize. However, the dark-haired girl-- _Alya_ \-- appeared to be ignoring the conversation, nose stuck in a book she'd clearly just pulled out of a bag.

"She does that a lot?" Marinette asked.

"Yeah, that girl is _always_ studying," Nino explained, "I'm not sure if it's because she actually cares about getting good grades, or if it's just because she's obsessed with beating me."

"Beating _you_? I thought you said your main focus is your music," Marinette said, turning back to him, "You're telling me that aside from that, you're _also_ a top student? Color me impressed."

"It's really not a big deal," Nino said, blushing. "And Alya's the one who's normally at the head of the class, not me."

"But she clearly considers you competion," Marinette said, smiling, "And here I thought all you rich kids lived high off your parents' money without worrying about grades or any of that."

For a second, Nino's face seemed to darken, and she opened her mouth to apologize. Before she could say anything though, he just smiled.

"Not quite," he said, then abrubtly changed the subject. "Anyways, you know all about me, but I feel like I hardly know anything about you. Other than my mom's music, what kinds of things are you into?"

"Well, I'm really interested in colors and patterns," she said, "I'd love to be a designer or artist of some sort."

"That's pretty cool," Nino said, "Have you ever thought about....."

Before long, the bell was ringing, and it was time to head back to class.

* * *

"You okay, Nino?" It was only halfway through the day, and Nino was already exhausted. _Maybe that all-nighter was a bad idea._

"Yeah, I'm fine," he said, shrugging off Marinette's concern. "It's nothing to worry about."

But he couldn't seem to focus. The teacher was talking, but he barely heard a word. _This isn't good._

After a few minutes, he realized this wasn't going to work. His face was flushed and the classroom was swimming before his eyes. He raised his hand.

"Excuse me, monseiur, I'm not feeling too great."

The teacher gave him a once over.

"You don't look well either......Nino," he said, glancing at his student list. "It's only the first day. Why don't you go lay down in the infirmary for the afternoon. I'll let the rest of your teachers know.

"Should I go with you?" Marinette asked, looking worried.

"Na, I can make it on my own," Nino said. "Thanks, though. See you later....or tomorrow?"

He made his way out to the hallway and looked around.

_Where was the infirmary, again?_

* * *

Alya was walking through the hallway when she heard the voices. Someone, or maybe a group of someones, was walking in her direction, and she couldn't afford to be caught.

She looked up and down the hall, then ducked into the nearest room-- which happened to be the infirmary.

 _Where can I hide?_ There were some curtains blocking part of the room from view. _The cots! No one will look for me there._

But one of them was already occupied.

 _Rolling. Great._ That guy was _everywhere_.

 _At least he's asleep._ Alya stared down at his peaceful face, wondering how the devil incarnate could look serene.

 _What do you dream of, I wonder?_ Eating puppies, maybe, or tripping old ladies in the street.

 _That's not fair._ Alright, fine. It wasn't like Nino was horrible to _everyone_ \-- it was only her that he couldn't stand. The two of them had hated each other since preschool-- over a decade. She couldn't remember exactly how it started-- whether he'd stolen her truck or knocked over her block tower or something equally despicable, but that had been it. They'd been enemies ever since.

In primary school, that hatred had shifted to rivalry over grades, and that was where it had gotten _really_ annoying. Sure, Alya was bright, but she also studied a lot and worked _really_ hard....and Nino _didn't_. She never saw him open a textbook to study, or take notes in class, or really put any effort _at all_ into anything besides his music, and yet somehow the two of them were always neck-in-neck when it came to top grades. If Alya got 97% on her math quiz, Nino would get 104% on his spelling test. If Nino got 98% on his science project, Alya would get 102% on her history exam. For Alya, it was serious business, but Nino _didn't seem to care_. Sure, he'd rub it in her face a little when he came out on top, but it never seemed to bother him when she was the one who came out ahead, and he never seemed prepared. It was like he didn't consider her serious competition. In fact he barely even seemed to acknowledge her existence unless it suited him. It drove her nuts.

"One of these days, Rolling," she whispered, leaning towards him, "One of these days I'll make you see me."

"But I do see you," he said.

Alya jolted backwards. He was _awake_? He'd _heard_ her?

But he wasn't done talking.

"You're beautiful," he said, lifting his head. Alya snorted. Oh, this was _priceless_. Nino Rolling, who could barely stand the sight of her, had just told her she was _beautiful._ Clearly, in his half-asleep state, he'd mistaken her for some other girl-- the object of his affections, apparently. Idly, she wondered who it was. That scholarship student he'd been so chatty with? One of their other classmates? _Chloé?_

Alya couldn't resist. She quickly pulled out her phone, turned on the camera, and pushed record. She leaned closer towards Nino, until they were almost nose-to-nose, then checked to make sure they were both on the screen.

"You think I'm beautiful, huh?" This would be _great_ blackmail material.

"You're absolutely breathtaking, Alya." Then he leaned forward, and, ever-so-lightly, pressed his lips to hers.

* * *

Nino rubbed his eyes, sitting up. He'd been dreaming, but it had been so lucid...he'd almost thought it was real.

 _Yeah right_ , he thought, sighing as he lay back down, another wave of exhaustion threatening to overtake him.As if Alya would ever come visit him in the infirmary. It really must have been a dream. _But sometimes, I just wish...._ he was asleep before he could finish the thought.

* * *

And on the other side of the infirmary door, a bespectacled girl with her back pressed to the wall slumped to the ground. She had one hand pressed to her mouth, while the other gripped the phone she couldn't take her eyes off of. She gaped at the screen, which showed a frozen still of lip-locked two teenagers-- one wide-eyed in shock, the other with his eyes closed. No matter how much she stared, the image didn't change. _What just happened?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So idk if any of you noticed, but the characters are acting somewhat OOC, and that's actually on purpose. While who they are deep down hasn't changed (Adrien's still a flirty goofball, Marinette's still a helpful sweetheart), etc. their life experiences have been _very_ different from their canonical counterparts, and have shaped their personalities differently.
> 
> A shout-out to poor Adrien, who will probably remain an object of Marinette's annoyance a little longer than his canonical counterpart. This Marinette, who's faced more than just one irritating Chloé in her life, is not so quick to forgive.
> 
> Speaking of Chloé, remember that in this storyline, she hasn't even _met_ Marinette yet. (At least, I don't think so. None of thse characters want to listen to me, so there's definitely a possiblity that when I try to write these two's first meeting, they'll be like "actually we met at the park one time when we were toddlers," or something. IDEK.) Any guesses on how their first meeting'll go down? (Hint: It WILL be epic!)
> 
> Also, Nino has a new last name. Sorry about that-- my plan was always for Nino to be the child of musicians, and for his dad to be the more famous one, but that he'd bond with Marinette over his mom, and in the end I decided this was simpler than making up two entirely new characters-- especially since we canonically no nothing about his parents.  
> As for my Paul Rolling and Jade Stone, they'll pretty much be OCs with very little in common with their namesakes, so don't worry about that.  
> Speaking of my boy Nino, who saw _that_ coming? Not me-- that scene played out a little differently in my head, but when I went to write it, he wouldn't behave. "I'm going to kiss her," he decided, and wouldn't listen when I told him it was way too early, and he needed to have a little patience. "Nope, right now." And then of course, Alya being Alya, wanted to pull out her phone and record the whole thing. Geez, why won't these characters ever listen to me?


	3. Balance On a Tightrope

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They may have gotten through their first day of school, but the day is not yet done.
> 
> Adrien has work to do, Chloé returns to an empty house, Nino has more secrets to protect, and Alya wonders what it will take to be noticed.
> 
> Oh, Marinette? Marinette gets to bed early and gets a decent night's sleep. She'll need it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You thought the day was over, huh? No such luck.

There was a limousine waiting outside the school building when the final bell rang

There was nothing especially unusual about this. Françoise Dupont was the school of choice for children of the rich and elite. Plenty of students were dropped off and picked up in limousines.

Of course, the scary-looking mountain of a man sitting in the driver's seat didn't look like your average chauffeur, but he wasn't enough to make the circumstances surrounding the limo anything out of the ordinary.

No, what made the limousine so odd was its intended passenger.

As students streamed out of the building, some headed to the dorms, some to the yard where various cars were parked and waiting, and some even walked off the grounds to wherever their intended destination was.

A blond boy climbed into the backseat of the limo, his too-bright smile dropping from his face, replaced by a resigned expression.

"Alright, let's go," he said, and the driver nodded before pulling away from the school and drivimg off.

It _was_ somewhat unusual for a student living in the school dorms to be picked up right after school-- especially on the first day.

* * *

The house was empty when she walked in.

 _Of course it is. It would be 'utterly ridiculous' to expect_ Audrey Agreste _to possibly be waiting to hear how her_ _daughter's last first day of school went._

In terms of things Chloé held against her mother, this didn't even make the list-- if she'd actually expected Audrey ( _"Maman makes me feel so_ old _,_ _darling"_ ) to care to hear about her day, it was her own fault for getting her hopes up.

In fact-- Chloé checked the calendar on her phone-- Audrey had actually left for Milan this morning, and wouldn't be back for another two weeks. _I don't understand_ why _she insisted Adrikins stay in the dorms, anyway. It's not like she's ever around enough for his presence to annoy her._ She snorted. As if that would stop Audrey-- Adrien's very _existence_ seemed to annoy her, no matter _where_ either of them were.

"Can I get you anything, Madmoiselle Chloé," a butler asked.

The house wasn't completely devoid of other people, of course, but Chloé didn't exactly consider the _help_ decent company.

"No, thank you, Jean-Claude," Chloé said, her voice polite but completely devoid of emotion, "I'm going to my room, and I don't want to be disturbed until dinnertime."

"Yes, of course, Madmoiselle," replied the butler, "Are you expecting any company for dinner?"

 _Well, I'd_ like _to have Adrien come over after his photoshoot, but Audrey would have a cow if she discovered he'd crossed the very threshhold of this house in her absence._

But all she said was, "Not that I'm aware of, Jean-Claude," and headed up the stairs. She was about to open her bedroom door, when she paused, turned, and walked towards another room.

The door opened silently-- she'd almost expected it to be locked, but that wasn't Audrey's style. Her mother didn't lock up things she didn't want to see, she just _destroyed_ them.

Which was why Chloé _really_ shouldn't have been surprised at what she saw when she entered the room.

It was empty.

Well, not _completely_ empty. There was an empty armoire against one pure-white wall, and a spotlessly bare bookshelf against another. There was a bed that had been made with starchly cleaned sheets. There was even a desk with a computer in the corner, complete with matching chair.

In other words, it looked like any other guest room in the house. (Chloé wasn't sure _why_ they needed such a ridiculous amout of bedrooms in the house, considering that they almost never had _any_ guests.)

There was nothing in the room to suggest that, up until yesterday, someone had actually been _living_ there. That someone had kept prized possesions on that bookshelf, had spent countless hours on that computer, and even more curled up in that bed, sometimes to read a book, other times to cry into that pillow.

A part of her had suspected it would be something like this, but it still shocked her.

Her mother (or, more likely, a maid-- Audrey found manual labor _beneath_ her) had scrupulously removed each and every scrap of life this room contained.

On the inside, she was fuming, but not a trace of it showed in her well-trained expression. Calmly, she closed the door, walked back to her room, and silently slipped inside.

There was no slamming of doors, no raising of voices or throwing of objects. There never was with Chloé. Those were all much more classically characteristic of Audrey, and for all that she was her spitting image, Chloé had no interest in being anything like her mother.

* * *

"I'm home!"

When they heard the feminine voice at the door, the two dark-skinned boys sitting on the couch looked at each other, then stood up and ran off in different directions.

"Mom, Mom, Mom, guess what I did today!"

Nino smiled as he listened to his little brother accost their mother as she entered the apartment. Chris was a bright, high-energy child who never failed to bring a smile to their faces.

He opened the refrigerator door, pulled out the casserole he'd made earlier, stuck it in the oven, and set a timer.

"Hey, Mom," he said as he walked back to the couch and sat down on her other side. "Dinner should be ready in an hour or so."

Time had been kind to Jade Rolling-Stone's appearance. At thirty-six, she could easily pass for a decade younger. There wasn't a single white strand in her jet-black hair (which she kept purple at the tips) or a wrinkle in her snow-white skin (so different from her sons'), and her jade-green eyes still sparkled with a youthful amusement (although Nino had started to notice how often they darkened with worry when she thought he wasn't looking).

"Nino, honey," she said-- they always spoke English at home-- "How was _your_ day?"

"It was pretty good," he said, smiling, "I made a new friend. Her name's Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

"A _girl_ , huh?" His mom winked at him.

"Jeez mom, it's not like that," he said, rolling his eyes. "Anyways, she seems pretty cool-- oh, and she _loves_ your music."

"Which clearly shows her good taste," she said, laughing. "Anything else happen--"

But Chris thankfully interrupted before she could finish, jabbering about how he and his friend Manon had beaten all their classmates at some schoolyard game.

"And _then_ Marco said--" The sound of a ringing phone cut through Chris's jabbering.

"I'm sorry, boys," she said, pulling her phone out of her purse. "I have to take this. When I'm done, you can finish your story, okay Chris?"

The younger boy nodded, frowning.

"And Nino," she said as she opened the door to her bedroom, "I _do_ want to hear how your day went later, alright?"

Nino sighed as she closed the door, less because of her impending interrogation and more due to the reason she'd been called away.

Jade Rolling-Stone was pretty good about not bringing her work home with her. Rarely did she ever answer work calls at home, and if she did, she always warned them in advance. And she never would have let a phone call from a friend interrupt a conversation with her sons.

There was only one type of call that would have pulled her away with no explanation and barely a word of apology.

It must have something to do with his father.

* * *

After her sharp knock on the door went unanswered, Alya groaned, pulled out her house key and unlocked the front door.

When she walked into the house, there was no one there to greet her, so she walked around the house, trying to figure out where everyone was.

First, she checked her old sister Nora's room. A note on the door read _Gone to the gym-- don't wait up!_ Nora, a champion kick-boxer, spent all her free time at the gym, so that was hardly a surprise.

Next, she checked her younger sister Ella's room-- empty. A quick peek into Etta's room revealed the same. Odd. Where could the twins be?

She checked the animal rooms, but she didn't see the crocodile anywhere-- he must have been returned to his home. _Thank goodness._ Her father's job as an exotic animal trainer often included bringing all sorts of strange animals home, but that crocodile had _seriously_ creeped her out.

She checked the kitchen-- her mother was usually in there, experimenting with her latest recipe, but today it was empty.

_Seriously? No one's home?_

She'd spent a few hours at the library, thinking that burying herself in books would distract her from-- _nope, not thinking about it_ \-- and had hoped dinner would be ready by the time she got home. Clearly, that wasn't happening.

She pulled out her phone and called her mother.

"Maman? I know Nora's at the gym, but where is everyone else? Oh, you went out to celebrate Etta and Ella's first day of school? You do remember that it was my first day of lycée, right? Yes, I know I wasn't home, but I _do_ have a cell phone! You could've called! What am I supposed to do for dinner?"

After bickering with her mother a little longer, she hung up her phone in a huff. She put some pasta up to boil, whipped up some spagetti sauce, and ate a quick dinner before storming off to her bedroom and slamming the door behind her.

_I swear, some days it's like I'm invisible!_

* * *

"Marinette, is that you?"

Marinette walked through the door of the apartment above her parents bakery, sniffing the air.

"Dinner smells delicious, Maman," she said, "Is it ready yet?"

"Another five or ten minutes," her petite mother said, "Why don't you go up to your room and put down your stuff, sweetie?"

She climbed the ladder up to her loft bedroom, dumping her bag in the closet. Then she pulled off the sweaty, dirty clothes she'd been wearing outside, tossing them into the hamper and put on the uniform she'd changed out of when she'd come home earlier in the after noon.

"Did you have a nice time with your friends?" Her father asked when she returned to the living room.

"Yeah, it was nice to spend time with them after a long day of school," Marinette said, smiling. Her father frowned a little, but her mother called them to the table before he could respond.

"This is delicious, Maman," Marinette said, taking another serving. "I don't know how you get your food to taste this good."

"Practice, Marinette," her mother said, laughing, "How was your first day at school?"

"Pretty much what I expected," Marinette said, "The building and grounds were gorgeous, the classes don't seem too hard, and the students were mostly stuck-up snobs. I did make one new friend, though."

"Marinette...." her mother looked at her father, prompting him to continue.

"Marinette, your mother and I a little concerned," he said.

"Concerned?" Marinette wrinkled her brow in confusion. "What's wrong, Papa?"

"Marinette, you know how proud we are that you earned that scholarship," her big teddy bear of a father said, "But are you really sure this is what you want? You don't seem especially enthusiastic about this school, or the other students."

"Yes, Papa, I'm sure." Marinette looked her father in the eye. "I worked hard for this opportunity, and I'm going to see it through."

"As long as you're sure," her mother said. "We love you and we support your decisions."

Marinette smiled. "Thanks, Maman and Papa."

* * *

Chloé was lounging in her ensuite bathtub when she heard the knock on her bedroom door.

"Madmoiselle Chloé, dinner will be served in fifteen minutes."

"Thank you, Jean-Claude," she called. Quickly, she rinsed off her head, making sure her hair was thoroughly clean. She couldn't afford for one of the help to notice even a speck of dirt in her normally pristine blond hair.

Then she stepped out of the bathtub, blowdried her hair, pulled on some fresh clothing, and headed downstairs to eat dinner, alone, at the vast dining table meant for many more people.

* * *

Adrien returned to his dorm late at night, long after the other students living in the building had retired. He thanked his chauffeur, then grabbed his backback and the take-out bag he'd picked up on the way back, and headed up to his room.

There was sign hanging on each of the doors, labelling which room belonged to which student. His room was the last one on the third floor hallway. He paused at the door, looking at the sign. He hadn't paid much attention to it the previous day, too busy unpacking, but tonight he gazed at it for a long moment, taking in the words.

 _Adrien Agreste_.

He snorted. _As if._ Ever-so-carefully, he reached out, tore the sign in half, and crumpled one half into a ball, which he threw into the garbage can standing a little further down the hall.

He turned back and read what was left of the sign.

_Adrien._

Much better.

He opened the door, sat down at his desk, and scarfed down his dinner.

* * *

Eventually, Alya's eyelids grew heavy, and she was forced to put down the book she was studying from, pull on her pajamas, and crawl into bed.

Her last thought before she fell asleep?

_I am so, so tired of always being invisible._

* * *

Later that night, after Mom put Chris to bed while Nino washed the dishes, she and Nino sat at the table, sipping on identical mugs of tea.

"So, how _was_ your first day of school?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing exciting," he said. He told her about meeting Marinette, what kind of food the cafeteria had served for lunch, and the song lyrics he'd scribbled into his notebook.

He didn't tell her about nearly passing out in class, and he _definitely_ didn't mention ending up in the infirmary. No need to worry her.

"Alright, kid, I'm exhausted," she said, yawning, "Don't get to sleep too late, okay?" He mumbled noncommitally, taking the mugs to the sink and rinsing them off as she stood up and headed out the kitchen door.

"I love you, Nino," she said.

"Love you too, Mom," he replied. She smiled, then headed towards her room.

He finished drying the cups, put them in the cupboard, then headed for his own room. He turned on the light, pulled on his headphones, put on some background music, and pulled out his textbooks to look over anything he might have missed in class.

He took scrupulous notes, which he'd never really done before. But now he didn't have a choice-- he _had_ to make sure he knew this information forwards and backwards. He couldn't afford any slip-ups.

After all, he had to stay up near the top of _all_ his classes if he wanted to keep his scholarship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A note about the last names: while researching how hyphenated last names work, I realized that there's no real hard and fast rule for how people do it. Which means that for my fic, I could mix and match however I wanted.  
> So, on the one hand, we have Marinette, who's parents each kept their original last names (Tom Dupain and Sabine Cheng), and gave _her_ a hyphenated last name (Marinette Dupain-Cheng). On the other, we have Nino, who's dad kept his original last name (Paul Rolling) while his mom took on a hyphenated last name (Jade Rolling-Stone) (though she's still Jade Stone for music purposes), but they gave their kids one last name (Nino and Chris Rolling).

**Author's Note:**

> Note: Adrien, Marinette, Alya and Nino are all starting their first year of lycée (which would be equivalent to tenth grade). Chloé is in her third year (the equivalent of a high school senior).
> 
> Complain about my lack of updates on [tumblr](https://ljf613.tumblr.com/)!


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